


desperate times call for desperate measures

by Anonymous



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Okay Maybe A Little Smattering of Feeling Snuck In, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25996234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's early on a Thursday morning when Shane decides to head to the breather office and get some finishing touches done before Katie and he film Puppet History tomorrow. Gray clouds hang low in the sky and it's begun to drizzle overhead.Shane barely notices the weather.He's 45 minutes deep into a 2 hour podcast on a lesser known but no less badass countess from the 17th century and he's on autopilot. He turns his key into the unlocked door of the office, not even registering that the lights are on. A loud sound pierces through the low British monotone flowing through Shane's ears and he freezes when he realizes where it's coming from.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 5
Kudos: 138
Collections: Anonymous





	desperate times call for desperate measures

Ryan is laying on his back, spread out over the Watcher Weekly couch, with his t-shirt pushed up to his collarbones and his black skinny jeans rucked around his thighs. 

He's got a hand around his cock and one of the pastel Watcher hoodies pressed to his face. 

It's _Shane's_ hoodie. He can tell by the Professor pin he'd affixed on the back of the hood. His heart rams against his rib cage and heat flares over his skin as he hears Ryan's choked off moans, muffled by, but still loud in spite of, the thick fabric covering his face. 

Shane knows what he should do, what common sense tells him, what would be the right thing, the smart thing. 

Ryan hasn't even spotted him yet. Shane could make his way into the kitchen, bang mugs around and close drawers, pretending as if he didn't even notice Ryan was there. He could head to the local coffee shop down the street and suffer through the burn of a freshly made brew until presumably enough time had passed and then return to the office. 

Shane does neither of those things as he gapes at Ryan, mesmerized. 

Ryan's strokes are slow, as if he's teasing himself, but the way his other hand is pressed firmly to his chest, the way his fingers are harshly flicking and pinching his nipples...it's anything _but_ teasing. Shane doesn't recall ever hearing anyone be this noisy outside of porn, but Ryan is groaning and whimpering and _writhing_ in a way that's so primal it's like he's an animal in heat. 

He can hear Ryan taking sharp inhales of the fabric of his hoodie and Shane should find this creepy and off-putting but he's weird, and Ryan's weird, and _they_ are weird together. Well, not together together of course but...Shane finds himself confusingly endeared. He can hear Ryan mumble something, whatever it is being cut off by a swipe of a thumb over the head of his cock and a jerk of his hips. He's not entirely sure what Ryan said, but now can hear him repeating the words in earnest like a mantra. 

Shane makes sure to stay relatively hidden, closing his eyes to see if he can more acutely focus his hearing. 

"Shane Shane oh fuck, _Shane_...m-miss you Shane." 

Shane feels like someone punched him in the chest. 

Ryan's hand is squeezing now, his fingers speeding up as if he can no longer hold back his need. The hand that was on Ryan's chest is moving up to clutch at the sweatshirt. 

Shane dimly notices that he's grown painfully hard. 

He watches as Ryan's hand morphs into nothing but a blur, watches as his body tenses and rises off the couch, watches as Ryan _holds the hoodie out of the way_ so he doesn't get come all over it. Ryan collapses back against the couch and the heavy broken sounds of Ryan's breathing are almost more torturous than the moans that Ryan yanked out of his own chest. 

Shane allows himself to linger for a moment, distantly beginning to plot his...escape? Re-entrance? He isn't sure. 

Ryan wraps his arms around the hoodie, his fingers stroking over the back of the hood and Shane feels something in him shatter. 

He's flooded with so much emotion at once that it nearly knocks him off his feet. 

It's then that he decides to leave. He discreetly hurries outside into what has now become a torrential downpour and makes his way over to the coffee shop to call and wait for an Uber. 

He orders a regular hot black coffee, sipping at it slowly, only noticing intermittently when it burns his tongue. 

The Uber soon arrives and takes Shane back to his apartment. 

Shane hurries inside, slams the door behind him and shoves a hand into his chinos. It takes only a few quick strokes of his cock before he's coming undone in his doorway and sinking to the floor. 

As he catches his breath, Shane reasons that he didn't witness Ryan jerking off on the Watcher Weekly couch with Shane's hoodie draped over his face. If a tree falls in a forest and no one's around and all that. No one knows that Shane saw except Shane, and if he pretends he simply doesn't know, and if Ryan presumably doesn't tell him, then it really didn't happen. It wasn't real. 

Just like the come drying on Shane's thigh wasn't real. 

Just like the familiar yearning tug of his heartstrings when a Facebook memory of Ryan and him appeared on his wall wasn't real. 

Just like the dull ache in his chest that felt heavier and heavier every time he looked at Ryan, that had made it's home there four years ago. wasn't real. 

Shane can feel something prickle behind his eyes but just like everything else he places both hands on it and shoves it down deep. He trudges to the bathroom to wash off the mess he's made of himself once again.


End file.
